I ran for parties,
I rushed for trials.
I mingled with the rich,
I crowded with the weighty.
The beggar irritates me,
The poor do I avoid.
While wisdom of life awaits me,
I told her she was void.
I took the front seat in theatres,
I shook the hands of scoundrels.
I drove cars bought of deceit,
Taken from the lacking by "YOUR HONOUR".
I pretended to ease the beggars of their pain,
By signing vain documents with my expensive pen.
But when the loud hailers of elections were unleashed,
I hugged the beggars, kissed the poor,
And fought with the rich I had once sought.
The hungry children with torn clothes,
I carried and posed with.
But when the horn of victory sounded,
I dropped the infant and ridiculed with laughter.
Oh you elected monsters,
When will the people learn that you are ruthless tricksters!
Copyright © Christian Eliab Ratnam 2012
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Christian I enjoyed every line, keep it up